


if i could be the sea

by bbhyun



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Surfers, Confessions, Crushes, Drunken Flirting, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Summer, Summer Romance, soonyoung is a big flirt, soonyoungs a surfer, wonwoo struggles to deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbhyun/pseuds/bbhyun
Summary: “Ooh, a boyfriend, then? A beach boo, if you will,” Soonyoung wiggles his eyebrows at Wonwoo, who almost laughs, because Soonyoung couldn’t be further from the truth.“Don’t have one.” He replies casually, not looking Soonyoung in the eye.“Cool,” Soonyoung says to Wonwoo, a small smile playing on his lips as he moves aside to let his colleague manoeuvre around him.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 89





	if i could be the sea

**Author's Note:**

> i have returned with more soonwoo content!!! which may be edited in the future, i kind of churned this all out towards the end
> 
> soonyoung is a surfer dude bc why not, but disclaimer i know close to nothing about surfing so please take this w a heavy pinch of salt... i just thought surfer soonyoung and a beach au would be v cute for them
> 
> pls feel free to leave comments & we can talk abt soonwoo! i wld love that <3

* * *

_If I could be like the calm sea,_

_Someday, I would tell you that I love you._

* * *

The day Wonwoo meets Soonyoung is a nameless, unassuming day in the middle of a Korean summer. It is, by all accounts, a completely ordinary day, the only outstanding thing about it being its sweltering heat. Which makes Wonwoo deeply regret his decision to go on a walk by the beach. To be fair, the weather hadn’t been _that_ warm when he’d left his house, but the late morning sun’s proving to be relentless, coating him in an unbearable film of sweat that makes his shirt cling to his back.

So when he approaches the beachside shop (called _Beach Boos_ , Wonwoo’s never heard a more awful name), colourful (and clearly handwritten) signboard boasting cheap drinks, there’s nothing to do but enter. The shop’s more of a shack, really, wooden walls painted bright blue, with even more brightly coloured surfboards lined up by the side. Wonwoo seats himself at the small outdoor bar and fans himself with a menu card, gazing at a wall with Polaroid picturesof employees and the beach tacked up on it.

“I believe those are more so for people to look at,” A cheerful voice draws Wonwoo’s attention away from the wall. It belongs to a boy with a blue baseball cap lazily drying cocktail glasses. Wonwoo blinks, then lets out a sound that’s somewhere between “oh” and “um”. He slowly lowers the menu, because he’s _pretty_ sure the boy’s just joking, but when you’re Jeon Wonwoo, you can never be too sure with people and their behaviour. As he sets the menu down on the counter, the boy laughs.

“I’m just playing,” he winks, setting the cocktail glasses down and coming to stand across from Wonwoo. He leans forward, resting on his elbows with his hands loosely clasped on the counter. His scratched up name tag reads _Soonyoung_ with a yellow smiley face sticker. “Well? What can I get you?”

Wonwoo’s about to speak when Soonyoung interrupts. “Oh, but don’t ask for anything too complicated. Like cocktails and whatnot. I’ll probably fuck it up and you’ll regret ordering it anyway. I can get you anything that’s from a can, though!”

“Isn’t it literally your job to make drinks?” Wonwoo looks up, eyebrow quirked. Still leaning forward, Soonyoung grins at him sunnily, eyes crinkling. His tone’s a little more familiar than Wonwoo’s used to, given that he’s just met this Soonyoung guy, but hey, _he_ had started joking around first.

“Hey, rude! Well, I guess you’re right. Kind of. It’s not _really_ my job to make drinks. I’m just covering for this other dude who’s running late. And I can make some drinks! Just not the hard ones.” Soonyoung protests, pouting. Wonwoo raises his other eyebrow and nods slowly, expression wry. “I was just giving you a disclaimer, man, I was really doing you a favour, actually. You can go ahead and order a complicated drink, if you like, I’ll make it for you, but you can’t complain if it comes out tasting like crap.”

“I’m good, just get me an orange juice. And now that I’m done reading this menu, am I allowed to fan myself with it?” Wonwoo deadpans, making Soonyoung laugh. He pulls off his cap, revealing soft hair dyed ash grey, to push said hair back before pulling the cap back down firmly. Absently, Wonwoo touches his fingers to his own hair and wonders if he’d be able to pull off a colour as well as that.

“Be my guest,” says Soonyoung, bowing deeply and humbly before he straightens up and heads to a rather battered-looking fridge to retrieve some oranges. When he starts up the blender, it gets too noisy to even consider having an audible conversation, so Wonwoo tilts his head to look at the sea. The scene meeting his eyes could be used by the tourism board. The sky’s clear and cloudless and the sea rolls onto the shore dotted with people in greenish-blue waves capped with white. Wonwoo inhales the salty air deeply. He loves the beach. It’s pretty much his favourite thing about his hometown, its one saving grace amidst the loneliness and boredom of coming from a small village.

“Pretty view, isn’t it? I swear I never get sick of working here.” Soonyoung remarks, setting down a glass in front of Wonwoo. There’s a tiny paper parasol in his juice. “Except the name. That, I could do without.”

Wonwoo looks around the shop. Other than an old man in a corner, he’s the only customer here, and Soonyoung appears to be the only worker on shift. Which explains why he has the time to lean on counters and talk to strangers by the bar.

“Yeah, it makes me want to film a music video here or something.”

Soonyoung perks up at this, tilting his head to the side in interest. “Are you a filmmaker?”

“Nah,” replies Wonwoo, stirring his drink with his straw, “just a college student. I study film.”

“That’s way cool, man, do you have all those fancy cameras and shit? You know, the huge ones that people have to wheel around and stuff?”

“Those cost thousands of dollars. I mean, I just told you I’m in college. I’m broke.” He wonders if Soonyoung always talks this much to his customers, or if he’s just extra bored today with the lack of business. Either way, it’s been a while since he’s had an extended conversation with someone who isn’t from his family, so Wonwoo’s uncharacteristically willing to indulge him today.

“Guess we’re in the same boat,” Soonyoung snorts, gesturing to his apron. A silence falls between them, and Wonwoo takes a sip of his juice awkwardly.

“So, um, what do you normally do here?” Wonwoo asks, then cringes internally at his attempt at making conversation. He's definitely out of practice, but come on, it’s _hard_ to talk to strangers. “Since you said you don’t make the drinks,” he tries to explain his question lamely.

If Soonyoung finds his conversation skills clumsy, he doesn’t let it show, answering him breezily. “I usually cover the rental side—you know, the surfboards and equipment. Technically I’m supposed to be able to do everything here, but I only work here during the holidays, so I’m kind of a lousy employee.”

Wonwoo glances at Soonyoung again. The tan skin with the pink blush of sunburn across his nose. The tank top and what Wonwoo’s pretty sure are Bermudas under his sloppily tied apron. And he has a seashell necklace, for God’s sake. _Of course_ , Soonyoung would be a surfer dude. “Do you surf?”

“Oh my god, I am _not_ a surfer dude.” Soonyoung's eyes widen, immediately clarifying as if he’s read Wonwoo’s mind. His reaction cracks Wonwoo up, and Wonwoo’s laughter makes Soonyoung wrinkle his nose, eyes bright with amusement. “I’m pretty shit at it actually. I just rent out the surfboards and hope a real surfer, a _handsome_ surfer, will come along and teach me.”

Soonyoung winks at Wonwoo, then laughs mirthfully, and Wonwoo clears his throat, because he has no idea how he’s supposed to respond to something like that. If Wonwoo didn’t look like a sweaty mess, he might have mistaken Soonyoung’s joking around for flirting. “I know someone who surfs. You’d think I’d know more, growing up by the beach and all.”

“A friend of yours?” Soonyoung hums, drumming his fingers on the counter.

Wonwoo blinks. He isn’t quite sure how to explain he doesn’t _really_ know someone who surfs, he’d just said that for the sake of replying. Although, Wonwoo supposes if he really racked his brain, he’d find someone in his list of acquaintances who knew how to surf. Mingyu, maybe, but Mingyu lives an hour away and definitely would not be available to teach Soonyoung to surf. Or Seungcheol, who’s good at all sports, though it’s been years since he’d said anything beyond the cursory _hello_ to his neighbour. While he’s running through his rather short contact list, Soonyoung’s still waiting for an answer, so Wonwoo mumbles out an “um, I guess” that comes out more like a question.

“Ooh, a boyfriend, then? A beach boo, if you will,” Soonyoung wiggles his eyebrows at Wonwoo, who almost laughs, because Soonyoung couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Don’t have one.” He says casually, not looking Soonyoung in the eye.

“Hello, hello! I am here and I am terribly sorry!” A tall, tanned boy announces, squeezing behind the counter while tying his apron on. The drinks guy, Wonwoo notes. “Thanks for covering for me, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung’s eyes flick away from Wonwoo’s face to greet the new arrival briefly, and Wonwoo’s temporarily relieved from his attention, feeling inexplicably fidgety in this small shop.

“Cool,” Soonyoung says to Wonwoo with an outstretched hand. There's a small smile playing on his lips as he moves aside to let his colleague manoeuvre around him to pick up stray glasses Soonyoung had abandoned to kill time with him. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way.”

Wonwoo takes his hand, warm and a little gritty from the sand on the counter. “Wonwoo.”

* * *

It’s not that Wonwoo’s looking for Soonyoung on his walks to the beach, okay.

Before Wonwoo had even known of Soonyoung’s existence, he’d already been going on his walks. It’s just that Beach Boos is conveniently located along his usual route, and now that Wonwoo’s aware that there’s a friendly face there, it makes sense that he should glance in its direction every time he walks past. 

“Hey, you,” Soonyoung shields his eyes from the sun as Wonwoo approaches. Today, he’s not at the bar, but at what Wonwoo assumes is his usual spot, by the stacks of surfboards and lifejackets next to the shop. His hair, pushed out of his face by a bandana, glints silver in the sunlight.

It’s only the second time he’s met Wonwoo, but Soonyoung greets him with the familiarity of an old friend, wide grin and excitable wave. “Good business, today?”

“Decent, I guess.” Soonyoung turns, getting back to hosing down some surfboards. Wonwoo slips a hand in his pocket, other hand holding onto an ice cream cone. The heat of the wooden boards presses onto his skin through his thin shirt as he leans back and watches Soonyoung work.

“Alone again?” Normally, this question makes Wonwoo bristle. It almost always comes along with a judgmental undertone, or worse, a pitying one, as if Wonwoo’s a loser who can’t find someone to hang out with. But Soonyoung asks lightly and casually, so Wonwoo just hums in affirmation. The thing about Wonwoo’s summer breaks is that he basically has no friends in his hometown. So while other people his age are off partying and going wild during their break, Wonwoo finds himself cooped up in his room gaming. It’s kind of a lonely way to spend summer, and it follows that summer’s the period he finds himself clouded with the most negative thoughts.

“I’m pretty much always alone on my walks. I can walk for ages, honestly. Helps me clear my head. Or cheer me up.” Wonwoo replies, giving an explanation Soonyoung hadn’t asked for.

Continuing to hose down the boards, Soonyoung turns to look at Wonwoo, a mischievous smile on his face. Wonwoo meets his gaze curiously, not expecting this reaction.

“So what I’m hearing is you like long walks on the beach. Long, emo walks on the beach.” Soonyoung looks like he’s holding back a giggle, biting down on his lip, cheeks round. Wonwoo rolls his eyes, because _lame_ , but responds gamely, because it’s also kind of cute.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” He states flatly, face straight until Soonyoung starts giggling. His laughter shakes his whole body and the water from the hose sprays out. Honestly, Wonwoo should take a few steps back. The hose water sprays off the boards onto him in a fine mist, and that rusty handle doesn’t look too hygienic. He doesn’t, however, and stays where he is, licking at the sweet cream trickling down the cone. If it were anyone else, Wonwoo might have been more conscious of distracting them from their work, but Soonyoung doesn’t seem bothered by Wonwoo. In fact, he’s delighted to have company while he works, and quickly launches into a story about this wacky family he’d met the other day. Wonwoo’s content listening, hose spray and all.

“Hey, follow me, I need to show you something.” Soonyoung says when he’s finished his third side-story, keeping the hose. When Wonwoo looks at him quizzically, he continues, “it’s not something weird. Trust me, you’re gonna be so impressed.”

It’s not exactly impressive. Endearing might be a better word, Wonwoo thinks, as Soonyoung watches him taste the mocktail eagerly.

“Please let me make you a cocktail,” Soonyoung had whined after pushing Wonwoo down into a seat by the bar. “I forced Seokmin to teach me, I can make some drinks now!”

“I don’t drink,” Wonwoo had replied, snorting once he’d realised what Soonyoung had _needed_ to show him was his new talent at mixology.

“Is it good?” Soonyoung prompts when Wonwoo doesn’t speak.

“Yes, really good,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, twirling the paper parasol in his glass. “Congratulations, you are not that lousy an employee, after all.” The other bartender (he thinks his name’s Seokmin) snorts at Wonwoo’s comment, clearly overhearing it while shaking a drink for a couple sitting beside him. With Soonyoung looking at him all proud and pleased, Wonwoo doesn’t quite have the heart to tell him he’d basically just made a marginally more complicated fruit juice for him, rather than the fancy cocktail he’d bragged about. He sets his glass down, ice clinking against the sides, and takes out his camera.

Today isn’t as nice out as it had been that first time round, but the sky is blue and the sea is calm and it makes for a beautiful Polaroid. Soonyoung, obviously, is intrigued. He begs Wonwoo to let him try and instantly starts snapping photos of the most mundane objects around the shop, a cup of paper parasols, a row of freshly washed glasses, the ridiculous sun clock against a turquoise wall. Sipping his mocktail (juice), Wonwoo watches. Soonyoung takes pictures with the earnestness of a child, squeezing his one eye shut and letting his mouth hang open. Before he realises it, Soonyoung’s taken a picture of him, and Wonwoo’s blinking the flash away.

“Aw, come on, I look like shit right now.” Wonwoo complains as Soonyoung starts shaking the Polaroid vigorously, “and you know, you’re not supposed to shake the photo. It’s a myth.”

Soonyoung shakes it anyway, then displays it to him triumphantly. It’s a photo of Wonwoo staring at the camera wryly, the corners of his lips curved up in an almost imperceptible smile, but a smile nonetheless. Wonwoo winces.

“It’s a nice photo!” Soonyoung argues. Childishly, Wonwoo makes a grab at the photo, but Soonyoung’s unexpectedly quick reflexes kick in and he yanks it out of the way. “If you hate it so much, then I’ll keep it.”

He makes a big show of dancing over to the Polaroid wall and tacking up Wonwoo’s picture. Great, now this weird photo of him’s up by the chalkboard of daily specials, together with pictures of the other employees, for the whole world to stare at and notice how he decidedly does not belong.

“Perfect,” Soonyoung says, voice smug, “now we have a handsome face to draw all the boys and girls in. Ooh, Seungkwan’s gonna be so proud of me and my business tactics.” Wonwoo’s about to go behind the counter and pull the photo off, but Soonyoung holds a hand out and it hovers in front of Wonwoo’s chest, fingers splayed out. “I’m terribly sorry, Wonwoo, but this is an employees-only zone. You’re gonna have to stay right where you are.”

“You’re embarrassing me.” His voice comes out whiny.

“No,” Soonyoung corrects, wagging his finger irritatingly, “I’m introducing you to the world.”

* * *

“And so we finally meet.” A boy with sunglasses pushed up into his brown hair and cool eyes nods at him as Wonwoo walks by the shop. Wonwoo stops in his tracks awkwardly and wonders if his peering into the shop had been that obvious to those inside.

“Um, sorry, do I know you?” The words stumble out, and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, looking between the boy and his phone. He seems to have unintentionally annoyed the stranger, who whips around and makes a petulant noise at Seokmin, who’s seated at the bar today.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t know me. Soonyoung can talk about everything under the sun and forget to mention his favourite dongsaeng.” The boy crosses his arms, fixing Wonwoo with a look. It occurs to him now that this is a man he’s never met before, but who knows Soonyoung and knows about him. Which means Soonyoung’s talked about him, which makes something Wonwoo can’t name bloom in his chest, bashfulness and delight and discomfort all at once.

Beside him, Seokmin turns to look at Wonwoo and raises his hand in a wave. He beams at him, and Wonwoo wonders if it’s a Beach Boos pre-requisite to smile like the sun.

“Ignore him, he’s being a brat.” Wonwoo nods, giving him a half-smile and shifting his stance uncomfortably so he’s somewhere between a you-don’t-have-to-make-conversation-with-me-I-could-just-leave position and a I-am-a-friendly-being position. “Soonyoung’s not working today, by the way. I mean, if you were looking for him.”

“Uh, I wasn’t.” Wonwoo tries to clarify, but Seokmin smiles at him like he knows otherwise.

“I’m Seokmin! And this brat’s Seungkwan; his parents own the shop.” Seokmin gestures at Seungkwan, who raises his eyebrows at Wonwoo in a greeting. “And we know you, you’re Soonyoung’s Polaroid boy.”

It’s been a while since Wonwoo’s last visit, so it takes him a few seconds to recall what the hell Seokmin means. When he does, he feels his face warm up.

“Oh my god, I totally forgot about that. You can remove my photo. Actually, please remove it, Soonyoung was being annoying.” He mumbles out. It makes the both of them crack up. They have infectious laughs, and it helps Wonwoo lose some of his stiffness.

“Yeah, I was wondering why this stranger ended up on our wall. I was like, did we hire someone new or what? And then I realised nah, Soonyoung's just decided he's the boss of interior decor on his own, and interior decor to him means quote unquote eye candy.” Seungkwan jokes, instantly losing the slightly intimidating impression he’d made on Wonwoo just two minutes ago. “Don’t worry about it, it’s cool. And Soonyoung would strangle me if I got rid of it.”

Wonwoo pretends Seungkwan didn't just imply he was Soonyoung's quote unquote eye candy.

“Come on in, man, have a drink.” Seokmin beckons, and when Wonwoo hesitates, adds on, “please, there’s nobody today and we’re dying of boredom.”

Wonwoo sits down as Seokmin jumps up to get behind the counter. It’s weird, to say the least, because in Wonwoo’s mind, Soonyoung and Beach Boos have melded together to be one collective idea. He perches uncomfortably on the edge of the seat, fiddling with a faded sticker stuck to the table. It’s unnatural to be sitting here without Soonyoung on the other side.

“What do you drink? I’ve got it all!” Seokmin spreads his arms out and winks with the charisma of a showman presenting his greatest act.

“I don’t drink.” Wonwoo says simply. “Anything else is fine, though.”

Seokmin’s grinning face falls. “No fun! I swear I can mix really yummy drinks! ”

“It’s not the taste I don’t like. I just don’t really like drinking around people because drunken behaviour is kinda embarrassing.” As Wonwoo explains, Seokmin’s flying about the kitchen, whipping out ingredients consisting of, but not limited to, an alarmingly large coconut. Seokmin lets out a good-natured laugh at Wonwoo’s explanation. Sitting a few seats down and barely glancing up from his phone, Seungkwan asks what Wonwoo defines as “embarrassing”.

“I just had a scarring experience which involved a lot of puke,” Wonwoo admits, wincing at the memory of a party back on campus with too many rowdy classmates. “And watching my friends humiliate themselves is reason enough for me to steer away. I know a guy who starts serenading strangers. Really badly, too.”

Seokmin laughs harder. “Dude, Seungkwan you totally do that! And you cry.”

“At least I don’t strip.” Seungkwan frowns pointedly at Seokmin, who sets down a milkshake in front of Wonwoo and mouths _liar_. “Or kiss people, like Soonyoung does. Serenading is totally harmless!”

Seungkwan casts him a look then, eyebrows raised like he’s insinuating something. As always, Wonwoo has no idea how to respond appropriately, so he blinks down at the drink Seokmin’s made.

* * *

By the beach, in a little shop called Beach Boos, there's a wall of Polaroid photos. In it, Wonwoo finds a picture of Seokmin with his face between two cocktail shakers, grinning at the camera. Beside it is a picture of a Seungkwan glaring at the camera over his sunglasses. And there’s one of Soonyoung, too, posing goofily on a surfboard on the sand, which always makes Wonwoo smile to himself. He’s winking at the camera, hand outstretched as if he’s calling out _come along with me._ Wonwoo downs the rest of his drink, eyes Soonyoung’s back as he prances about the bar, teasing and distracting Seokmin. _What do you know_ , Wonwoo thinks, _maybe I will_.

* * *

Wonwoo has the decency to wait by the side the next time he visits. It’s a Saturday and the busiest he’s ever seen the shop, which admittedly isn’t _that_ busy; given the tiny size of the shop, them having four customers already crowded the area. He nods a hello to Seokmin, who motions for him to wait, and leans against a wooden cutout of a sunglasses-wearing tiger on a surfboard. Wonwoo figures it’s some sort of failed photo spot at the boardwalk, since in all his visits here, he’s never seen anyone pose with it. Pulling out his phone, Wonwoo opens his social media, then closes it before the home page even loads. It’s a little sad, really, but Wonwoo’s quickly running out of things to do. This always happens to him a while into summer, when shooting at little soldiers on a screen grows tiresome and he skims through his friends’ tweets without actually processing anything. He glances into the shop again. It looks like it’s just Seungkwan and Seokmin on shift again, but at this point Wonwoo’s so lonely he’s just glad to see some friendly faces.

“Weekends are the worst. Sorry for making you wait, dude!” Seokmin jogs out when they’re finally done whipping up drinks and snacks for the thirsty, sweaty customers. A few steps behind him, Seungkwan follows.

“If it isn’t dear Mr Wonwoo again.” Seungkwan announces theatrically, with a little twirl. All Wonwoo can do is laugh and wave a little bemusedly. “Sorry to say Soonyoung’s not here right now, though he should be on shift, that little shit. My parent’s do not pay him to slack off when he’s clocked in.”

“He’s out surfing, I think, but you can wait here, he’ll probably be back soon.”

Wonwoo pauses. “Surfing? Soonyoung told me he was shit at surfing.”

“Huh? Oh, he was probably just being humble. Soonyoung’s not bad, actually, Seungkwan and I are the real lousy ones.” Seokmin replies.

“We aren’t lousy, Soonyoung and Junhui are just unfairly good,” Seungkwan complains, chewing on a piece of gum. “And speak of the devils.”

Wonwoo follows Seungkwan’s line of sight. Soonyoung’s returned from the ocean, carrying a surfboard under one arm, and he’s following behind another boy, who must be Junhui.

There are suddenly too many things for Wonwoo’s brain to process. First of all, Soonyoung is apparently good at surfing, which means he’s either a _fat liar_ or he’s finally found a handsome surfer to teach him. Both are conclusions that don’t sit well with Wonwoo. The second one, however, is decidedly more worrisome and directly related to the next thing Wonwoo’s struggling to process now. Because this Junhui guy’s raking his fingers through his hair and his face is handsome in a mischievous, boyish sort of way and Soonyoung’s chuckling at something he’s said. Okay, that definitely does _not_ sit well with Wonwoo. And the last, most troubling thing is that Wonwoo has just discovered that Soonyoung’s upper body is _nice_ (Wonwoo forgives himself for his poor vocabulary, there’s a lot going on in his head right now) and he looks good with his wet hair pushed back.

Soonyoung’s face lights up when he sees Wonwoo. “Hey! You’re back!”

Wonwoo just nods dumbly, as Soonyoung sets his board down at the back of the shop. Meanwhile, Junhui brushes past Wonwoo, fetching cans of beer from the fridge. Inexplicably, Wonwoo feels small (figuratively, but also literally, because Junhui’s got a few centimetres on him).

Somewhere along, Seokmin’s disappeared back into the shop to tend to a customer. Seungkwan’s busy nagging at Soonyoung to take his job more seriously and Soonyoung’s busycopying Seungkwan irritatingly, so Wonwoo’s just kind of left to hang around the new guy in silence.

“What’s up, I’m Junhui.” He introduces, in between gulps of beer. Junhui gives him a close-lipped smile, looking at him lazily through almost half-lidded eyes. Wonwoo offers his own name feebly. He’s never been good with people, especially new, intimidatingly attractive surfer dudes teaching Soonyoung to surf.

“The others told me you were here last week. Sorry you missed me, I usually get Wednesdays off.” Soonyoung appears miraculously, breaking the weird atmosphere between him and Junhui.

“Apparently you get Saturdays off too.” Seungkwan comments snidely, earning an elbow jab in his side. “It’s alright, in your absence he got to know me and Seokmin, the superior employees anyway.”

“Yeah, they told me all sorts of funny stories.”

“Nothing weird, I hope.” Soonyoung groans, glaring at Seungkwan, then at Seokmin’s back. “These assholes just love sharing embarrassing shit about me.”

“Oh, nothing too bad. But Seokmin did mention you have a lovely habit of kissing people when you’re drunk.” Wonwoo teases, poking Seokmin in the side. He immediately regrets it, because instead of the fabric of a shirt, he pokes bare skin over taut muscles and is suddenly acutely aware that Soonyoung is shirtless. Wonwoo swallows the thought down. “And don’t even deny it, they told me way too many instances for it to be false.”

“Why would you tell him that?!” Soonyoung shouts. Poor Seungkwan bears the brunt of his overreaction. “Now he’s going to think I’m easy.”

“Why would I think that?” asks Wonwoo, in between laughs.

Soonyoung straightens up and crosses his arms primly. “Well. Just for your information, I _rarely_ do that. And I only do it to people I’m close to, okay. Not like, complete strangers.”

“And surfing, huh?” Wonwoo gestures vaguely at the abandoned boards. “Guess you found someone to teach you?” He wasn’t going to bring it up, because he was afraid of sounding like he cared that Junhui was teaching him. But Soonyoung’s reaction to being teased is amusing, and his flustered face is kind of adorable, so Wonwoo decides to fuck it, even if he’s being too obvious.

For a moment, Soonyoung looks confused, as if he doesn’t get the reference Wonwoo’s making. His eyes light up in recognition, then widen with embarrassment. His face scrunches up sheepishly, like a child caught in the act. It makes Wonwoo smile unnoticed.

Next to him, Junhui starts laughing. “Soonyoung always pulls this shit. It’s his _line._ ”

“Don’t tease me, asshole!” Soonyoung’s ears redden slightly, but he’s regained his composure and is pouting at Wonwoo good-naturedly. “You got me. I can surf. But Junhui is definitely not my handsome surf teacher. My standards are way too high for this fool to fulfil my beach romcom fantasy.”

Not that that meant anything to him, but it makes Wonwoo relax slightly. Junhui starts bickering with Soonyoung while Seungkwan pretends to referee their fight.

“Surfer dude.” Wonwoo shakes his head, giving Soonyoung a small smile. Pausing, Soonyoung turns his attention to Wonwoo and gasps comically.

“I am _not_ a surfer dude!”

“Are too!”

“Okay,” Soonyoung crosses his arms, conceding. “I admit, I am a dude who surfs. But not a surfer dude.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Fine, Mr Logic, then what do you say to surfing with the world’s coolest, most handsome surfer dude?” Soonyoung smirks at him, leaning forward. Wonwoo thinks he senses a challenge in Soonyoung’s sparkling eyes. “You can borrow trunks. We rent them out for an extra fee, but I guess you can have them for free.”

“How could I refuse such a tantalising deal?” Wonwoo says flatly, and Junhui snorts in laughter.

Soonyoung’s smirk widens. “You hear that, Wen Junhui? Sounds like round two!”

As it turns out, Wonwoo’s not a complete disaster on a surfboard. It takes him many tries, but he eventually gets the basics down. Despite being the one who invited him, Wonwoo learns that Soonyoung’s a good surfer, but a terrible teacher. He’s earnest at the start and feeds Wonwoo the basics, sticks around to laugh at Wonwoo learning to balance for a while, then paddles off to chase bigger waves.

“Soonyoung’s a complete show-off.” Junhui rolls his eyes, floating beside Wonwoo. He’s the only reason Wonwoo hasn’t drowned under a wave yet. “Okay, let’s try again.”

With Junhui’s help, he improves slightly, and graduates from the baby waves to mid-tier ones. He keeps falling and splashing into the water, but the few seconds that he manages to balance on a wave are exhilarating. Wonwoo gets why people are addicted to it. When Wonwoo successfully rides a full wave, Junhui hoots and hollers, and Soonyoung swims back to them.

“You’re good.” He grins, combing his grey hair back.

“Do not take credit for my protege, Soonyoung. You totally ditched him!” Junhui splashes seawater at Soonyoung, who sputters and chokes at the salty taste. Wonwoo laughs, and splashes Soonyoung too.

“Bullies!” Soonyoung screams and jumps at Wonwoo. Wet hands shove at Wonwoo and against his struggles, he’s pushed underwater with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Asshole,” He gasps when he breaks the surface. He shakes his head, and wipes a hand down his face, but he’s grinning widely. For a moment, Soonyoung lingers there, close enough that Wonwoo can see how his brown eyes turn into liquid honey in the sunlight. Wonwoo thinks, distantly, that they may be having a moment, Soonyoung staring at him with his laughing eyes and Wonwoo laughing back. But it passes as quickly as it starts, with Soonyoung clambering back onto his board and chasing after Junhui. Wonwoo is left wondering if he’d been reading too much into something that hadn’t even been there at all.

After an hour or so, Junhui swims back to shore to grab a snack. Soonyoung spends some time trying to help Wonwoo and riding smaller waves with him, but they eventually give up and float around in exhaustion. Wonwoo sits straddling his surfboard while Soonyoung swims about him in lazy circles, face-up.

“Junhui works with us too. He and I cover the rental side. Seokmin and Seungkwan cover the bar.” Wonwoo hums in acknowledgement. “It’s annoying because he joined later, but he’s better than I am. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Wonwoo lifts a hand to shield his face from the sunlight. Belatedly, he realises he had forgotten to apply sunblock, so he’s probably going to get sunburnt. He splashes some water on his shoulders, which are already pink from the exposure. “I was a bit scared of him at first.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I’m kind of awkward around people the first time round. And I’m always wondering if people actually like being around me or not.”

“Are you? You were fine when we met.”

“That’s only cause you talk a lot. When people talk a lot I can kind of blend into the background and let them take all the attention. Then all I need to do is laugh and respond at the right times. It’s a lot less stressful, because the amount of time I have to embarrass myself by being awkward is significantly shortened.” Wonwoo jokes, rubbing his shoulders.

“Really? But you shouldn’t just blend into the background,” Soonyoung frowns, flipping upright so he’s treading water by Wonwoo’s board. “I like it when you talk.”

Wonwoo looks down at Soonyoung, who wraps his arms around the edge of the board. He leans his weight on it gingerly and rests his chin on his hands, tilting to look back at Wonwoo. “I don’t think you’re bad with people, Wonwoo. I bet it’s all in your head. Junhui’s definitely cool with you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! He’s only talkative when he likes you,” Soonyoung says kindly. “Plus Seokmin and Seungkwan like you too. And me, obviously.”

Wonwoo smiles slightly and dips his fingers in the water. In the afternoon sun, the water’s warm and inviting, sunlight refracting and rippling across the surface. Wiggling his fingers in the water, he squeezes a fist shut and imagines he’s moulding the warm water like dough in his palm. He casts a sidelong glance at Soonyoung, who’s still staring at him. Seawater has caught in his eyelashes, tiny, tiny droplets that run down his face when they catch on his cheek with each blink. “Well, if you say so. Still, I’ll never be _good good_ with people. I don’t know how you do it. Or how Seokmin does it. Or Seungkwan. You guys are like, effortlessly amazing at connecting with others.”

Soonyoung hums thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I guess I just really, really like it. It’s fun to talk to and get to know people. It’s not that I don’t feel awkward sometimes. It’s more like I just think to myself, what the fuck, who cares if someone thinks I’m weird. I’m here now and only now, so I might as well have fun with those around me. You know, without other people around, the world would be so dull.” He wrinkles his nose and leans back into the water. “I have no idea if that was even coherent.”

Wonwoo watches him and tries to pinpoint when exactly this fondness for Soonyoung started. “I suppose you’re right.”

When they finally stop for the day and head back to the shop, Wonwoo does so with damp hair and bare feet. He thinks of dinner waiting for him at home and licks his lips, an unfamiliar saltiness on his tongue. Under his feet, the sand is soft and warm, sticking to the spaces between his toes.

“Well, surfer boy,” Wonwoo starts conversationally, and Soonyoung turns to smile at him, “I must say that was pretty fun.”

Wonwoo helps Soonyoung keep the boards with the bustle of the shop as background noise. Seungkwan’s whistling along to a song on the radio, the evening crowd’s streaming in after a long afternoon, and Seokmin’s busy serving them, from the sound of crushed ice and liquids being shaken.

Over his sunburnt shoulders, Wonwoo slips on his tee shirt. He waves to Junhui, who’s just woken up from a nap, and is about to say bye to the others when Soonyoung pulls his arm back.

“Not so fast.” Soonyoung shoves his phone in Wonwoo’s face. “So you know when I’m working, and I know when you’re coming, and I don’t have to wait for days like a fool.”

* * *

He leans his head back and lets out a contented sigh. The sky is coloured with the golden hues of a sun ready to set. It strikes him that everything is good, and that he is happy. It’s a comforting, warm realisation that sits with him the rest of his way home. Walking up the slope to his home, he passes Seungcheol checking his mailbox for the evening paper.

“Hi Seungcheol,” Wonwoo says in a sudden burst of friendliness. Seungcheol, in his pyjama pants, looks at him in surprise. Wonwoo doesn’t blame him, he hasn’t initiated a conversation with his neighbour in ages. “Have you eaten yet? Wanna come over for dinner?”

Seungcheol grins. “Sure, sounds good.”

* * *

**_kwon soonyoung_ ** _has sent you an image._

 **kwon soonyoung:** today seokmin taught me how to cook these noodles

 **kwon soonyoung:** so now i can make drinks AND cook

 **kwon soonyoung:** i can make you a whole ass meal when you next visit

 **kwon soonyoung** _has sent you an image_

 **kwon soonyoung:** me and my noodles B)

* * *

Wonwoo checks the address Soonyoung had texted him again. He’s at the right place, he thinks, but it seems pretty quiet inside. Pursing his lips, he texts another SOS to Soonyoung.

He’s standing on the doorstep of what’s supposed to be Seungkwan’s family’s house and no one’s answering the door. Summer nights are considerably cooler than the day, but nobody’s freed from mosquitoes. So he’s sort of alone, hopping about and swatting at his legs on the doorstep when someone finally answers the door. It’s a guy he hasn’t met before, so the interaction would have been awkward had the stranger not been drunk. Thankfully, said stranger is definitely intoxicated, so Wonwoo’s greeted with an overenthusiastic hug.

“Everyone’s out back, so we didn’t hear you ringing the bell. Peace.” The stranger points to the backdoor, which Wonwoo discovers leads to a path which then leads to the beach. Soonyoung is annoyingly still not replying Wonwoo, and Wonwoo’s in the midst of figuring out how to approach the straggle of people (most of whom he does not know) coolly when he spots a familiar glint of grey hair by the bonfire.

“You could’ve spared some time to reply me,” Wonwoo complains as he approaches Soonyoung, who immediately checks his phone apologetically. “I was contemplating just leaving and ditching the whole fun summer bonfire idea.”

“I am so sorry, I have been so caught up. But you’re here! And that’s all that matters! And there are so many fun people for you to meet!” Soonyoung slings an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, pulling him closer till Wonwoo can smell the spiciness of his aftershave and the alcohol on his breath.

Normally, Wonwoo stays away from parties and large gatherings. They’re sticky and unpleasant and normally crammed with unruly drunks. But Soonyoung had pleaded with him ( _it’s just a small bonfire, not one of those gross frat parties you’re used to_ ) and he’d roped the others into his ploy and Wonwoo can barely say no to Soonyoung alone, let alone all four of them at once. So here he is in shorts, holding some unnamed drink, sitting on the sand with a bunch of guys whose existence he had not been aware of a month ago.

“You’d better be enjoying that drink, Wonwoo. Soonyoung made me drink so many goddamn cocktails ‘cause he wanted to get good at making them.” Seungkwan says, rolling his eyes. He’s currently lying in Junhui’s lap, because he’d whined so much about having to entertain all these guests that Junhui had just forced him to lie down and rest.

“Don’t lie, you _loved_ drinking all that under the guise of helping me.” Soonyoung counters, shaking his fingers at Seungkwan, who swats at them clumsily.

“I guess it’s _okay_ ,” Wonwoo teases. Beside him, Soonyoung recoils dramatically and yells something about him being ungrateful and awful. Honestly, it’s hard to tell, alcohol and Soonyoung’s loudness makes for an unintelligible combination. His mini tirade ends with him pouting, which Wonwoo has learnt is one of Soonyoung’s two default expressions—the other being smiling.

“You’re always so mean to me.” Soonyoung whines, leaning his head of grey hair on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Wonwoo shifts slightly, wanting to lift the cup to his mouth but not wanting to move his arm anymore.

“No I’m not.”

“No,” Soonyoung admits softly, “you’re not.”

* * *

“You know, you never told me where you study.”

It’s a bit later into the night. The others have stumbled off, back into the house to flirt with a girl, further down the beach to play volleyball, to the barbecue pit for more food, in its tipsy state, Wonwoo’s brain can’t keep track of the reasons. It’s just him and Soonyoung left, and they’ve moved so they’re closer to the warmth of the bonfire. Wonwoo hugs his legs to his chest, keeping his eyes on the dancing, crackling flames until Soonyoung addresses him. When he tells Soonyoung his college’s an hour away, his face falls slightly.

“I’d hoped you were just in town, too. Though I guess the chances of that were slim. I’d probably have met you by now if you were.” Soonyoung says ruefully, voice slightly hoarse from drinking and yelling earlier on. “Still, it’s funny how we hadn’t met before this summer. You know, seeing as we’ve both lived here out whole lives.”

“It is a pretty small town.” Wonwoo agrees, downing the rest of his beer. Honest to God, he hadn’t planned on drinking anymore than what Soonyoung had made for him, but Wonwoo learns that several drinks in, his self-discipline quickly falters.

“I’m glad we met,” Soonyoung tells him after a pause. Wonwoo turns to face him, but Soonyoung keeps his gaze locked on the flames. “I would’ve been much lonelier had I not.”

“You wouldn’t have.” Knowing Soonyoung, he’d have easily found another person to enthral and draw in with his winking eyes and easy laughter. Wonwoo thinks it’s the other way round. Or rather, he knows that it’s the other way round, that without Soonyoung _he’d_ have been way, way lonelier.

Soonyoung tilts his head and smiles at him, eyes almost closed. “I think I would have.”

“You would have had Seokmin and Seungkwan and Junhui still. And I would have had my computer and my parents.” Wonwoo jokes, poking Soonyoung in the forehead. Soonyoung lets himself be pushed back slightly, then leans forward again, like a spring toy, and props his chin on his palm.

“Mm, I would,” He drums his fingers on his cheek, voice slurring. “But they’re not you.”

Wonwoo thinks of Seungkwan’s sarcastic teasing and Seokmin’s toothy grin and Junhui’s cackling laughter. “No, they aren’t.”

“But are you happy?”

Pausing, Wonwoo glances at Soonyoung, who’s looking back casually. Wonwoo kicks at a small mound of sand. He is happy, and this he knows without having to think. “I am.”

Soonyoung smiles, mouth half covered by his palm, and flicks his gaze away. “Excellent. No more long, emo walks by the beach, then.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Wonwoo sniffs. “I’m always able to squeeze those in regardless.”

Truth is, for a while now, Wonwoo’s stopped using his walks to clear his head and started using them as excuses to find a certain surfer with a penchant for seashell jewellery.

“You’re funny.” Soonyoung giggles.

“Yeah, you’re just drunk.” Wonwoo says dryly, which makes Soonyoung stop and turn back.

“You always do that.” Soonyoung’s pouting _again_. It’s unnecessarily distracting and never fails to make Wonwoo focus on Soonyoung’s mouth. 

“Do what?” His voice comes out muffled, words clunky. Wonwoo is _so_ going to regret drinking tomorrow morning.

“Put yourself down.” Soonyoung grabs Wonwoo’s face suddenly, two hands on his cheeks. Wonwoo startles at the sudden contact, stomach doing little flips. For a brief second, Wonwoo’s idiotic brain thinks Soonyoung might kiss him, because what else is one supposed to think when your crush holds your face? He drags his eyes up from Soonyoung’s mouth and back to his eyes, mouth dry. And Wonwoo’s pretty sure he’s not the only one panicking internally, because Soonyoung looks like he’s just realised what he’s done. Which is to say, he kind of looks like he’s frozen, lips parted slightly and eyes stuck on Wonwoo’s mouth. But Soonyoung must have a discipline way steelier than Wonwoo, because he clears his throat and powers through with his original intention, a nagging tone he must have picked up from Seungkwan. “You need to stop with the self-deprecating humour. Seriously, you always act like you're lame and boring and it's totally not true. You’re, um, good.”

“Just good?” Wonwoo asks, almost whispering, and he’s smiling because Soonyoung’s cheeks are flushed and he’s so drunk he can barely keep his eyes open, but he’s still attempting to give Wonwoo a motivational talk in the middle of the beach. Funny, the sight of drunk Soonyoung’s making him laugh when he’s just as tipsy. Soonyoung holding onto his face is probably the only thing keeping Wonwoo grounded. Everything's spinning- Wonwoo's alcohol tolerance has always been low, and all he can be certain of is the feel of Soonyoung's palms on his wind-beaten cheeks and this drunken, ear-splitting grin he's wearing. Lately, Wonwoo's face muscles can't seem to catch a break. Nobody makes him smile the way Soonyoung does. 

Soonyoung tilts his head down, giving Wonwoo a sloppy smile and a quieter reply. “The best.”

  
It’s probably the softest Wonwoo’s ever heard Soonyoung’s voice. Though Wonwoo supposes when your faces are centimetres apart, there’s no need for speaking at normal volumes. Who knew, Wonwoo thinks amusedly, Soonyoung would be capable of such a quiet intimacy after all. 

Soonyoung leans in, and Wonwoo swears his heart stutters to a stop.

And Soonyoung does kiss him then, just not on the mouth like Wonwoo hopes, but on his forehead, smacking his lips obnoxiously and falling back onto the sand. It’s not exactly the kiss of his dreams, but Wonwoo’s heart feels like it may burst with affection anyway as he smiles himself stupid at Soonyoung.

“I thought you said you didn’t drunk-kiss.”

Soonyoung lifts a hand, pointing out stars to himself, and mumbles a response. “And I thought you said you didn’t drink.”

“Fair enough.” Wonwoo lies down too. He will worry about the sand in his hair and clothes when he wakes up tomorrow. For now, he focuses on how the stars are amorphous lightbulbs in the dark sky and on how the sea breeze is sweet and fresh as he inhales. Randomly, the strip of sand separating the two of them comes to mind, and then he focuses on not thinking about that.

* * *

He stumbles home late that night. The only thing sober about him is a memory of Soonyoung’s warm hands on his cheeks.

As expected, he throws up in the morning.

* * *

Jeon Wonwoo has this irritating tendency to overcomplicate things. He overthinks the smallest issues and occupies his time pondering every possible solution, every possible outcome. When he was young, he watched a sci-fi movie about the millions of alternate universes created just from people’s different actions and he has never been the same since.

But with Soonyoung, everything is strikingly clear. He knows plainly what he wants to do. He wants to lounge about the outdoor bar at Beach Boos and watch Soonyoung mix drinks excitably. He wants to listen to the crazy anecdotes that spill out of Soonyoung’s mouth one after the other. He wants to know Soonyoung, his witty tongue and imaginative mind and kind heart, but also his sandy hand and tanned skin and perpetually pouting mouth.

And so he walks with purpose, nodding a brisk hello to a sleepy Seungcheol on his way to the beach. Things have never been simpler.

* * *

Wonwoo finds Soonyoung at the back of the shop, leaning against the wall and fiddling with an old radio. His tongue is sticking out in concentration, and Wonwoo feels himself smiling, fondly and involuntarily.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” Soonyoung yelps, pleased, when Wonwoo marches over to him. “I’m trying to figure out how to change the station on this stupid thing I dug out of my garage yesterday. I’m so frustrated, because I swear I did it just now, only I don’t remember how, and now I really want to change the station because Shinee’s having an interview on 92.0 and I’m gonna miss it.”

“Soonyoung, stop talking about the radio.”

“What is it?” Soonyoung glances up at him curiously. He tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows, and Wonwoo almost kisses him right then and there. But he doesn’t, not yet, because it is simple, but that doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to rush. He pauses to capture the moment and breathes in deeply. He has a feeling he’ll want to remember this.

For future reference, he logs it all down in his head, eyes greedily taking in every detail around him. Soonyoung’s hair soft and falling into his eyes, the wall the characteristic shade of Beach Boos blue, the radio DJ presenting the weather forecast for the day. And Soonyoung’s eyes on him, in them confusion and nervousness and always, mischief.

“Can I kiss you?” Wonwoo asks once he’s certain he’s done noting every last detail down. His heart’s beating so wildly Soonyoung might be able to hear it thudding against Wonwoo’s ribcage. Soonyoung stares back for a beat without saying anything. Then he licks his lips, a smile creeps onto his face, and he ducks his head shyly.

“Wait a second.” Carefully, Soonyoung sets the radio down on a stack of surfboards. He blinks once, twice, then nods and says in a small voice, “I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Wonwoo grins, and leans forward. And after weeks of Soonyoung’s casual flirting and Wonwoo’s clumsy reciprocation, this feels like a satisfying end to the buildup. Still leaning against the wall, Soonyoung pulls Wonwoo in closer by his tee shirt. Wonwoo steadies himself with one hand on the wall and brings his other up to Soonyoung’s face. Soonyoung’s hair tickles Wonwoo’s skin, and he smells like the sea.

Wonwoo pulls away, smiling, like the lovesick fool that he is, at the whine Soonyoung lets out. He bites down on his bottom lip, ears pink, and Wonwoo’s heart’s racing, because surely there can’t be anything cuter than this.

“Not yet,” Soonyoung insists, and pulls Wonwoo back gently. For all his bravado, Soonyoung kisses him with a surprising carefulness, soft and uncertain, and it’s so fucking _endearing_ Wonwoo can’t help but smile into the kiss. Soonyoung pushes him back slightly, frowning. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Wonwoo answers quietly and kisses the corner of Soonyoung’s mouth lightly. Lazily, Soonyoung’s hand drifts from Wonwoo’s shirt to his face, a familiar gritty warmth tracing his jawline.

  
“Is my hand totally gross and sandy right now?” Soonyoung murmurs with a soft exhale of laughter. 

“Disgustingly so,” Wonwoo deadpans, and Soonyoung leans his head back against the wall in proper, full-bellied laughter.   
  


Soonyoung sighs contentedly. “Can you believe I’ve been waiting for this to happen since our first conversation?” He lets Wonwoo tilt his head back down and kiss him again, open-mouthed, and exhales shakily when he pulls back. “Fuck, I’m crazy about you. How embarrassing is that?” 

“Can’t say you played it cool.” Wonwoo says sarcastically, and shifts to stand up straight. He touches a finger to Soonyoung’s seashell necklace.

“And yet you took so long to come around,” says Soonyoung cheerily. “How sadistic of you.”

The day Wonwoo kisses Soonyoung is a nameless, unassuming day in the last month of a Korean summer. It is, by all accounts, a completely ordinary day, the only outstanding thing about it being a slow kiss shared by a stack of surfboards to the soundtrack of the 11am weather report.

* * *

“One day, I’m going to be better than you.” Wonwoo taunts as they walk back to the shop, surfboards sandwiched between their arms and their bodies.

“No way, I’m much too good for you.” Soonyoung winks at him over his shoulder, putting his board down. Wonwoo slides his board above Soonyoung’s and falls into a deck chair with a sigh.

“Looks like I’m going to have to start begging Junhui for private, exclusive, one-to-one surfing lessons.” Soonyoung whips his head back and gives Wonwoo a scandalised look.

“Fuck no, Junhui has to go find his own,” he declares, leaning down to kiss Wonwoo swiftly.

A few metres away, Junhui’s dusting his hands off, having just dealt with a customer. “So not only are you blatantly slacking off during your shift, you also can’t leave me out of your disgusting blatant flirting?”

“You’re just bitter and jealous, Wen Junhui.” Soonyoung sticks his tongue out at Junhui, and Junhui pulls a classic Junhui move, which is to repeat Soonyoung’s words annoyingly.

“He does have a point. I swear I’ve never seen you even work properly, first meeting aside.” Junhui crows triumphantly at Wonwoo’s backup.   
  
  


“Don't do that! You’re morally obligated to be on my side,” answers Soonyoung, eyes dancing,“now, tell me what you want to drink so I can bully Seokmin into making something for us both.”

“Long gone are the days when you’d make them on your own,” Wonwoo shakes his head with a smile. “Tell Seokmin to go crazy with mine. I trust him.”

“That’s only ‘cause I was desperately trying to impress you.” Soonyoung calls out as he heads to the bar.

Happily, Wonwoo leans back in his seat and admires the view sprawling ahead of him. He still has the Polaroid he took of the beach that day; it’s safely tucked away in his wallet. Recently, he’s been spending so much of his time on the beach his light skin’s getting more and more tanned. _It’s good,_ his mother beams at him, _you look healthy and happy._ And when he’s not at the beach, he’s rediscovering parts of his hometown with Soonyoung and learning the nooks and crannies he loves.

_What do you think will happen when the summer ends?_ Soonyoung had asked him one day, lying down on Wonwoo’s bed.

_I don’t know_ , Wonwoo had replied.

Returning with two drinks in hand, Soonyoung sits down beside Wonwoo. He’s chattering about how Seokmin had refused to serve him their best rum on the grounds that Seungkwan’s mother had been watching, but it shouldn’t have mattered, because Seungkwan’s mother loves Soonyoung like her own son.

Wonwoo is still unsure what will happen then. But for once, he does not stress over the future and all it holds. There is a sense that everything will be good and alright, and that things will all be settled in their own time.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Soonyoung yawns, stretching backwards. “You going to head back first?”

“No,” says Wonwoo, smiling down at the paper parasol spinning in his cup. “I think I’ll stay.”


End file.
